


An Unspoken Attraction

by twistedwriter101



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: #mingzan, F/M, Red Lotus, everyone needs mingzan, red lotus fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedwriter101/pseuds/twistedwriter101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...I'm sensing an unspoken attraction between you two." Who says it was solely unspoken, Bolin? Follow Ming-Hua and Ghazan through Book 3, what we saw, but more importantly, what we didn't. Mingzan, with a healthy side of P'Li/Zaheer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> All aboard the SS Mingzan! Because the world needs it :)
> 
> Also posted on fanfiction.net 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
> Like a good bunch of others, I decidedly fell in love with the Red Lotus during the past book – especially Ghazan and Ming-Hua. And I thought, maybe I should contribute to the blossoming Mingzan community, too! (Hey, did you see that pun there? :D )  
> Chronologically, the story will follow every instance we see Ghazan and Ming-Hua starting with their prison busts.

Waves. Dry bread. Water. Strengthen. Stars. Sleep.

Waves. Dry bread. Water. Strengthen. Stars. Sleep.

It was all Ghazan could do not to drive himself crazy. His prison, the wooden caricature of a ship, mocked him relentlessly. At first, he thought long and hard of escape. What time would be best, how he could engineer some earth, how he could beat the White Lotus guards… Those musings went out of the door after his first year.

He soon discovered that his voracious appetite would never be sated in prison. _Like that was a surprise_ , he thought drily. When the lack of sustenance began to whittle down his tediously built muscles, Ghazan initiated the best workouts he could perform, given his ten-by-ten cell. The guards let him be – they knew strength alone would not be sufficient enough to break the thick beams that composed his cell. With all of his might, Ghazan tried not to linger on thoughts of his comrades, his friends.

Rarely did it work.

Unalaq, the traitor, quickly tucked his tail between his legs and fled. _Oh well, not like anyone particularly liked him anyways… Asshole._

Ghazan thought of the Amazonian combustion bender, P’Li. When she had been taken down after their failed kidnapping, Chief Sokka had been unimaginably quick in securing a permanent cover over her tattooed weapon. A veritable firebender even without her combustion, Ghazan could imagine her deep in the bowels of one of the Water tribe prisons.

Then came his brother-in-arms, Zaheer. Almost enviously, he pondered where they would keep Zaheer. He had no bending, so any old cell would do. Unless he could figure out how to hypnotize the guards with his ramblings on Guru Laghima, there was no real problem in keeping him incapacitated.

_Don’t do it, don’t…_

Too late.

Inevitably, his thoughts fell onto the last member of their group. Whenever his mind wandered off, he attempted to reel in his thoughts on Ming-Hua. It was like walking precariously along a cliff’s edge; the second he lost focus, he fell. And when he fell, he became hurt and angry and confused all over again.

Ming-Hua. It was no secret that of his three main friends, she was his favorite. At first, they had been forced upon each other, two third wheels to the love-struck coupling of Zaheer and P’Li. While they had always gotten along, the increasing frequency between them had been leading to… something. Ghazan didn’t exactly know what.

_Not like I’ll ever find out now._

Something in his chest constricted uncomfortably every time he thought of her. Whether it was a snippet of long black hair, shinier than the meteorite he had once seen in a Republic City museum, or her acerbic, witty comments… Maybe it was her gracefulness, her fluidity, her fighting? Ghazan shook his head. He knew the answer to his own question – everything about Ming-Hua was attractive to him, and he had never gotten to pursue that interest. She was endearing, she was mesmerizing to him, and now, she was probably floating in a volcanic cell somewhere, with no water…

_Damn_. Every day, something about his floating prison reminded him of her. Thirteen years, thirteen insufferable years, renaming constellations, counting stars, rocking with waves… Ghazan didn’t know how much more of it he wanted to take. The fall of footsteps shook him out of yet another reverie.

_Here come the guards, must be time for food…_

Dry bread. Water.

As the guards turned away, he heard them muttering. _Shift change soon. Time to start some upper body maintenance._

“Finally…”

As usual, Ghazan tuned them out. How righteous of them to complain about being stationed somewhere for three weeks at a clip, with food, a bed, clean water…

A commotion went ignored by Ghazan. _Some idiot probably fell into the ocean again._

Then, suddenly, a rush of air whipped past a sentry into his cell. The White Lotus had burst into action around him, fire and water whooshing in targeted blasts. He quietly dropped from his handholds in his cell, peering through whatever gaps he could to see the source of the fighting. A set of feet padded over the top of his cell, and when he turned to identify the culprit…

_Zaheer! Airbending?_

Ghazan was left little time to ponder this interesting turn of events as three small rocks were tossed by his feet. The scent, the feel of earth engulfed his senses. How long had he waited to see the wonderfully muddy brown of rocks, to feel their hardness give way and become malleable under his hands?

His appreciative smile was only the beginning of this thankfulness. Soon enough, his earthly ammo was transforming into lava discs, each whirring with a menacing intensity. He felt the warmth holding his hands, his need for escape triggering some primal instinct in, to protect his friends, to help. Cutting through his cell wall, he strategically flattened a guard under the wood in which he was imprisoned. As he weaved through the remaining two sentries, his body creaked and cracked from its long stint in confinement.

_I must’ve aged thirty years… Not like I had much flexibility to begin with._

His rescuer’s identity was confirmed as Zaheer. Ghazan began to scrutinize his friend’s appearance. His grey hair has gone even lighter in some areas, his face creased with age that he had not yet reached, but overall, he looked the same… And his new airbending skills seemed to make up for more than enough. Ghazan could only wish that he didn’t look as much of a mess as he felt.

Standing taller than Zaheer, they exchanged a hand clasp and words, but Ghazan’s mind was elsewhere. If these events were going to proceed as they appeared to, P’Li and Ming-Hua would soon be freed as well.

_Ming-Hua._

He could only hope that he could convince Zaheer to free her first. He vowed to make up for his lost time and inactivity from the years earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Not mine.

At some point in her life, Ming-Hua had heard the story of how the waterbending master Katara escaped from a prison cell by producing enough sweat to create a makeshift water blade. Whether it had been out of a desperate fear or a hidden respect, a great many people had said in loud whispers that she, tiny Ming-Hua, was probably one of the only waterbenders who could have bested great master Katara…

So, of course, Ming-Hua had tried out the sweat escape. Many times. _Anything she could do, I could do better. And without arms. Obviously._

All she ever succeeded in doing was tiring herself out. The volcanic prison cell she sat in ensured that even the most negligible amount of water she produced was whisked away in a flurry of evaporated gases. The combination of minds in Lord Zuko, Katara, and Chief Sokka had effectively imprisoned her. That knowledge grated on her nerves every day she remained hovering over a vat of molten lava. Or was it technically magma? Ghazan would know…

There it was. Her friends.

Ming-Hua had never had a large group of friends. As a child, she was not the most sociable. Mature beyond her age, her mother would say. The other children couldn’t grasp her wit, nor did they want to approach the waif of a girl after she had stung a few with her bending prowess. But after the accident, trapped by a prototype for a new Satomobile… even the few brave children who would attempt to converse with her fleed. In one day, she had lost her parents and her arms. And the worst of it was that the driver of the prototype, a drunkard hired solely by Hiroshi Sato’s nepotistic tendencies, had gotten away without any judicial action. The man not only had the idolized Sato behind him, but also a network of highly placed individuals, including the president of Republic City.

Needless to say, Ming-Hua had learned very quickly that leaders were corrupt and could be easily coerced into tyranny.

She shook her head, limp black hair falling into her eyes.

Her friends. The only three people that truly accepted her, her ideas, her abilities. Zaheer was the studious elder brother that she had never had, P’Li became the best female friend, someone with whom she could cackle with and not feel judged. Someone who had no qualms with helping her to do her hair when manipulating water arms became a bit too tedious, who would help her dress without soaking her clothes, who understood what it was like to be different, to have that childhood which created an unwilling, confused pariah… And Ghazan.

Ghazan just _got_ her. His laid back attitude, their enticingly witty dialogues, and the fact that they were both third wheels in a group of four. But even more than that, he had obviously _liked_ her. She had never had a man interested in her, apparently the lack of arms was a real turn-off. Like everyone else in the Red Lotus, Ghazan was different. Where people had shunned him for his tattoos (“Prison stints,” they whispered disapprovingly, even though that was far from the truth at the time), she had latched on to his obvious strength, his power, his cunning. He towered over her skinny five and a half foot frame, with abnormally nice hair and a wicked grin.

But she would never tell him that.

She saw the shadows of her guards dance across the walls of the volcano, a particularly tall one standing out to her. He was one of her routine interrogation officers, constantly heckling her and being the stereotypical bully. He and his partners were the subjects of most of her stories – she needed something to amuse herself. As often as she imagined him plunging into the volcanic sludge boiling below her, she equally often imagined him taking out relationship troubles on her during interrogation sessions, with his wicked firewhip cracking menacingly… Ming-Hua wondered if he was compensating for something, or lack thereof. Where was Ghazan when she needed him? He’d appreciate her joke… Zaheer would say that it was crude and P’Li would remain silent, laughing to herself but avoiding a conflict with Zaheer.

“We’re under attack!”

Shaken from her ruminations, Ming-Hua’s head darted upwards. Flashes of fire illuminated the craggy walls, and-

_What?_

Was that air? She desperately tried to feel for water, maybe it was steam, something, anything to escape-

No, that was an Airbender. And a man in Earth nation colors… She didn’t want to get her hopes up too soon… Her time to think was cut short as water rushed down to her.

Sweet water.

Calm as ever, Ming-Hua bent herself arms for the first time in thirteen years.

 _I have missed these_ so _much!_

Fluid and precise, Ming-Hua climbed up her cell and vaulted on the catwalks. Whipping her water around, she easily subdued the White Lotus on the lower level walkways, flipping acrobatically and relishing ever moment she could. It was so nice to _move_ , to _feel_ again.

Mid-flip, she saw them.

Or rather, him.

She had assumed rightfully that the new Airbender was Zaheer, but seeing him and Ghazan made her heart jump, and she had become excited for the first time in over a decade.

Coming up to their level, she handled the guards… And wait a second, here was relationship sentry. She bent her water arm into an icy hook and launched him over the edge.

_I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d kill for some water!_

She straightened up, her hair now reaching her waist, tattered dress swaying at her calves. Moment of truth – she turned to see her fellow Red Lotus. Zaheer looked as proper as ever, disguised as a White Lotus. She pondered how on earth he would have gained bending but then dismissed the thought. He was feared enough as a non-bender, now with bending at his side, he’d be even greater as the Red Lotus leader. Ming-Hua found it highly coincidental that the texts and philosophies he had studied so intensely would actually now be of practical use.

Strolling up to her side came Ghazan, causing her to turn away from the crater that she had escaped.

“I’d never thought I’d be so glad to see your ugly mugs again.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own it. It’s Bryke’s world, and I’m just playing in it.  
> This chapter starts the playing with time – main storyline events will still be the aim of every chapter, but I’m improvising on how many days they have in between events, and of course, Mingzan, because the world needs it.  
> And yes, I’m taking liberties with clothing. Sometimes those outfits look so damn intricate.

The cracks about P’Li were just that, jokes. Ming-Hua didn’t really care – she was a bit too focused on changing the subject after Ghazan had greeted her because they had stared a bit too long into each other’s eyes.

He looked just as she had remembered. His voice sounded rough from years of disuse, but its depth was still soothing to her ears. Unfortunately, she wasn’t so lucky. She heard her voice emerge and had to restrain a frown at its rasp. Hopefully that would fix itself. But now, to actually get out of the Fire Nation…

\------

Ming-Hua didn’t let her water arms go for the entire trek to the cave where Zaheer and Ghazan had made their pitch. She finally felt whole again, and she’d be damned if she gave that up.

Without her prompting, Ghazan raised a chunk of earth to form her a makeshift private stall, water barrel already in the corner. Inwardly, she smiled with gratitude. Pushing down her feelings, Ming-Hua gave a tiny nod in his direction, noticing that his eyes lingered. Once again, she felt a flood of happiness, but her face remained neutral.

As she stepped behind to wall of rock, Ghazan went to find Zaheer, needing to distract himself until she was done. Then, he vowed, he would do what he should’ve done thirteen years ago.

Ming-Hua sighed, almost inaudibly, in relief as she bent warm water over her grime caked body. Soon, she was bending the water away from the dirt collecting at her feet, starting a shower in earnest. A bar of soap was conveniently placed near her water barrel, allowing her to cleanse her hair and scrub away any last memory of her prison. She felt spiritual, she felt renewed…

And then she realized that she didn’t have any clothes.

Clad in a towel, now soaked on its top half, she peered around the makeshift wall, hoping that there was something, anything, that she wouldn’t have to physically ask Zaheer or Ghazan for help. Luckily for her, there was a pile of clothes in the corner. Ming-Hua hurriedly crept over to it, glad to find a set of her garments – Zaheer or Ghazan must’ve raided the prison’s storage of her meager belongings. Hoping to remain unseen by either male, she rushed into the earth stall, dropping her towel in her haste. Fastening icy ends to her liquid appendages, she managed to slide into her leggings and dress, but she struggled with the dexterity needed to finish the ties to hold her outfit together. Where was P’Li when she needed her?

Swallowing her pride, she peered around the corner, trying to alert one of the men to help her. Ghazan was already there – had he been waiting for her?

“Zaheer is meditating. He says he can meet our accomplice in the Spirit World… Guess his philosophical wonderings proved useful,” Ghazan spoke, his incredulity showing in his last comment.

Ming-Hua smirked; often had she and Ghazan sarcastically remarked upon Zaheer’s studious tendencies. Then she remembered the task at hand. “Hey, help me out,” she half-asked, half-demanded.

She had turned around expectantly, the ties of her clothing hanging for Ghazan to take.

He didn’t.

Instead, she felt a rough hand on her bare back, its hard callouses making her shiver on contact. She paused and seized up – _what was he doing?_ Ming-Hua found out when his hands gripped her hips – _my now exceedingly bony hips_ \- and twisted her around. She stepped back with consternation, only to have him mimic her movement. Her back brushed against the stone wall of the shower, and suddenly she realized his intentions in a burst of clarity.

His mouth pressed against hers, warm lips overtaking her own.

It was over in seconds. With a distinct crack, Ming-Hua slapped him away with her water. “What was that!” She hissed.

“What I’ve needed to do _for thirteen years_ ,” Ghazan growled, the sound low and heady in his throat. He deftly bent back down and captured her mouth.

Ming-Hua’s calm exterior crumbled in seconds.

Instinctively, her lips moved in response to Ghazan’s. His hands were firmly grasping her hips over her clothing, which was now precariously hanging up only by the grace of her sharp shoulders. He had backed her flush against the wall, his tongue now prying for entrance. Hesitantly, she parted her lips, allowing Ghazan to continue his ministrations. Ming-Hua had to stop herself from sighing into his mouth.

Ghazan, on the other hand, he felt unstoppable. He had been with women in his teenage youth, but that had ended when he joined the Red Lotus. He did know, however, that never had he felt the undeniable spark that he had received by kissing Ming-Hua. Almost by its own accord, one hand moved off of Ming-Hua’s hip to grasp her jaw, making her head tilt up and giving him more access. It was delectable, the way that they fit together, how she leant into him.

Footsteps echoed off the walls, causing Ghazan to pull away with a devilish smirk. Ming-Hua could only glare, angry that he had caught her off-guard and angry that she had enjoyed that way too much. Slowly, accusingly, she turned back around, prompting Ghazan to finally tie her dress into place.

“You know, soon P’Li will be back to help you with that, Ming-Hua.”

As Ghazan pulled her hair up and fastened it into her customary style, he inwardly seethed at Zaheer. He wanted to put off P’Li’s escape, not because he disliked the woman (on the contrary, everyone in the Red Lotus got along splendidly) but because he knew that having her around might hurt his chances at being able to inconspicuously help Ming-Hua.

“Good. When’s the breakout?”

With a determined smile, Zaheer pointed to a nearby road. “One of our minor associates has graciously offered us passage to the Northern Water Tribe. We leave at dawn.”

\---------

Ghazan frowned as he continued driving the truck deep into the tundra. Ming-Hua had steadfastly ignored him for the entire trip, answering in short, clipped tones and only when necessary. She had even listened to Zaheer preaching about Guru Laghima – _Guru Laghima!_ – instead. He knew that she liked to bottle things up, but this was ridiculous. He had felt her respond almost as eagerly as he had initiated, even if she didn’t want to admit it!

_And I know that I’m a damned good kisser!_

With a half-hearted sigh, he tried to focus on the upcoming mission. Maybe that would help.

\---------

It didn’t help.

As they finally approached P’Li’s prison, Zaheer and Ming-Hua had climbed into the back of the truck. Zaheer’s arms conjured up a flurry of a snowstorm, Ming-Hua steadily bringing snow up to increase its size and voracity. When they finally met their opposition, Ghazan had taken a moment to fully stop the truck. And once again, he was distracted.

He remembered how great it was to feel earth after years of imprisonment, but seeing the ecstasy on Ming-Hua’s face as she leapt into the cold, finally completely immersed in her element… Even in his irritated state of half-rejection, he cracked a smile. _Dammit._

With a slightly exasperated shake of his head, his mood lifting a little, he stopped the truck and jumped out, ready for battle. A quick cursory glance told him all that he needed to know – he was going to have to deal with Lord Zuko.

Meanwhile, Ming-Hua was having an unnaturally fun time dodging the attacks from the new rulers of the Northern Water Tribe. It was only through the echoes of conversation off the walls surrounding her cell from which she knew that these were Unalaq’s children, that he had been defeated by the Avatar in an epic battle during Harmonic Convergence.

She continued her assault, flinging herself into the air as the twins started to shoot spikes of ice from the ground. Maneuvering was tricky, but she’d be lying to say that she wasn’t enjoying herself, that she wasn’t toying with them. Deciding to actually get on with what she was supposed to do, she made a sharp twist of her arms, capturing her attacker in pillars on ice whilst propelling herself upwards to help drill through the ice.

Air whooshed around her. Ming-Hua enjoyed the sensation of freefalling; it was an exhilarating experience, something that very few people were brave enough to attempt unless they were an airbender. _Or me_ , she thought smugly.

Fluidly, without even twitching a facial muscle, she avoided a sizzling blast of fire, landing on the guard with a sickening thud while simultaneously freezing the other with an icy blast. With a practiced ease, she froze the metal of P’Li’s cell, warping it beyond repair and permitting her entrance. A light grin crossed her face as she strolled into the cell, excited to see her friend.

“Ming-Hua?”

At the sound of P’Li’s voice – _still melodic as always_ – Ming-Hua paused. She felt her face crease into a frown, something she actually couldn’t suppress. P’Li was huddled pitifully on the floor, chains restraining her limbs. Even though she knew the pains of prison, Ming-Hua still seethed with anger. P’Li’s tattoo was covered, as expected. The cell was freezing and detrimental for a firebender, check that off. But for them to tie the giantess down like a rabid polar beardog?

_How dare they treat her like that!_

Water extended in thin whips, shattering the tethers. Ming-Hua played observer as P’Li finally removed her combustion cover, biting back a comment about P’Li’s hair – never had Ming-Hua seen her with anything but a half-shaved head. _She probably wouldn’t appreciate my wonderful remarks just yet._

With P’Li hanging on to her back, secured by extra water because there was no way Ming-Hua could carry her dead weight without assistance, she started to ascend.

“We could have just taken the elevator.”

Ming-Hua ignored her. How was she supposed to know where the hell the elevator was? Obviously P’Li had missed her amazing entrance.

“Showoff.”

_On second thought, maybe I should have made the hair comment._

\-----------

Ghazan was witness to the whole battle, playing off of the high ground that the bed of the truck gave him. Internally, he grinned when Ming-Hua emerged from her hole with P’Li in tow. He saw Zuko’s eyes shift upwards, so he followed, only to see the dragon blast the two women with fire. He felt his eyes widen – _why wasn’t Ming-Hua reacting?!_

P’Li bended the fire, retaliating with her own blast.

Ghazan could have smacked himself. _I am such an idiot._

Deciding that it was high time for him to defeat his opponent, he began to send more and more rocks towards the former Firelord. Jumping off of his perch on the truck, he split a rock, throwing the lighter half first as a distraction and nailing Zuko with the heavier part.

_That was strangely anticlimactic. I’m disappointed, maybe age has caught up to him?_

P’Li quickly finished off Tonraq, allowing the Red Lotus to pile back into the truck. Ghazan assumed the wheel, frowning when Zaheer and P’Li piled into the front section as well.

_It’s always in pairs, you assholes. Pairs! Me. Ming-Hua. Couples! Not making me into a literal third wheel!_

He greeted P’Li warmly enough for the circumstances, noting the excessive chained collar still hanging from her neck. Ming-Hua leapt into the backseat, neatly avoiding his eyes in the rearview mirror. _Guess she’s still steamed._ He braced himself for the lovey-dovey mush that was going to start soon. _I hope Ming-Hua and I are never like this._

Ghazan paused in his thoughts. _Of course, we may never get that chance if she doesn’t lighten up. I know she’s a closed book, but I know that she knows that I know her! I know she feels the same!_

With his mental tirade of “know’s” over, he found himself watching the beginning of the reunion between Zaheer and P’Li. Stuck between being upset over Ming-Hua’s reluctance and irritated that the other two _couldn’t just wait_ , he decided to lash out.

“Really? Right now?!”

Sulkily, as he continued the drive back to the ferry that would take them to Republic City, he failed to notice Ming-Hua gazed approvingly at him, the end of her mouth twisting into an amused smirk.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
> 
> Just as a notice, this chapter will have some of that high-T-rated stuff. Thank you!

The ride to the dock where the Red Lotus were scheduled to be ferried to Republic City was as uneventful as Ghazan thought it would be. P’Li and Zaheer cuddled like lovesick teenagers. Ghazan had grudgingly admitted to himself that they deserved the right to do so, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy watching it.

Luckily for the Red Lotus, their expansive network of contacts remained relatively the same, even after thirteen years of imprisonment. Businessmen, laborers, fighters, they had an in with just about every kind of person. Securing a private ferry and crew was easier than expected, and when that was brought up, Zaheer merely gave a modest shrug. The group had boarded the metal ship, exhausted by the journey but beating with the adrenaline of being free, of being able to see and talk to each other.

Dinner was a modest affair. P’Li ate most ravenously, but the other three held no judgment; they too, upon their respective releases, had eaten themselves sick. Small talk was exchanged, but as glad as they were to be in each other’s company again, they wanted to retire to their rooms.

\-----------------

“You know, I really don’t like myself with all of this hair.”

“Suit yourself,” Ming-Hua replied.

P’Li shook her head this way and that, trying to tame the wild miles of hair, water droplets flying everywhere. With a deadpan face, Ming-Hua bent the water off of her face and, subsequently, out of P’Li’s hair. “Don’t hurt yourself,” she sniped.

Either P’Li hadn’t heard her or was ignoring (which was far more likely), for she started to hum a nameless tune, running a comb through her Ming-Hua-dried hair.

“You know, Zaheer really thinks that we have a chance to do this right.”

“Well, he probably should, he had thirteen years to plan what normally takes him a day. I’m sure he’ll reveal his plan and credit some mysterious guru for inspiring him,” Ming-Hua commented drily. Then her eyes widened, almost comically. “He doesn’t pull that sort of stuff in bed, does he?”

P’Li let a giggle spill from her mouth. “How would I know? It’s been thirteen years!”

Ming-Hua stared at her reflection in the mirror she was using to comb her own hair before wryly stating, “Maybe he found some new guru and wants to surprise you with his tricks.”

P’Li opened her mouth, ready to retort, with something probably relating to Ghazan if Ming-Hua guessed correctly, but a knock on her door resounded through the room.

Ming-Hua stood and opened the door to admit Zaheer.

“Ming-Hua, how are you?”

“The same as I’ve been since the last time you asked.”

“P’Li is with you, right?”

“No, she’s actually on deck watching the sea.”

Zaheer raised an eyebrow at her, deciding on whether to believe her or call a bluff.

“You’re an ass, Ming-Hua. I’m in here!” P’Li called.

Rolling his eyes with a good-natured smile, Zaheer slid past Ming-Hua into the room. P’Li stood up to embrace him, then Zaheer sat on the edge of the bed, allowing P’Li to finish braiding her hair.

“Ming-Hua, I had meant to ask if your throat was feeling better.”

P’Li’s eyes widened, her mind racing straight to the gutter. Shooting her a glare, Ming-Hua set her mouth and responded. “I’ve done all the self-healing I could. It feels better, but obviously you can hear the difference,” she ended sarcastically. She had questioned Zaheer about her voice during the ride from her volcanic prison – had he had the same issue as her, because his voice sounded the same, as did Ghazan’s. _And now, P’Li as well_ , she thought ruefully. Her voice still sounded scratchy, a perpetual rasp in her throat.

“I’m sorry,” Zaheer started. “The only other thing I can think of is that the fumes from the volcano did some extra damage that the rest of us didn’t have to endure. According to my books, there can be some potentially fatal exposure, so you really were quite lucky.”

“Your voice really isn’t that bad, Ming-Hua, I promise.”

 _Of course Zaheer would try to see the positive_. Zaheer the academic was only bearable because P’Li knew what to say to fill the gaps. Perhaps it was just excessively easy for Ming-Hua to be pissy with Zaheer; the older brother/teacher vibe did that to her. By the same token, she recognized the un-vocalized question from P’Li – it was something she had heard many times before.

“I’m sure,” Ming-Hua responded to P’Li’s last comment as she gathered her bag of belongings and exited the room, prepared to find some other place on the ship to spend the night.

\-------------

The sound of waves beating against the metal hull of the ship was lulling Ming-Hua into a light sleep. She had gone up to the deck to get new water for her arms and had stayed because the liquid had called to her. It was a full moon, everything just felt incredibly magnified. She could feel the blood running through everyone aboard the vessel. While she could perform some bloodbending on a night like this, surrounded by her element and with a full moon, she couldn’t master or maintain it on any other day – one flaw that her armless self had yet to fix. Without actual arms, she couldn’t perform the puppeteer finesse needed through her fingers; it took too much concentration to form those fingers and bloodbend someone quickly enough to be efficient. _Of course, if I had a permanent full moon…_

Lost in her thoughts, Ming-Hua was startled when a streak of lightning lit up the ocean in the distance. She shuddered. If there was one thing she feared, it was lightning. Deciding that the ocean would still be there for a few days, she turned and walked back into the hallway where the rooms were. Padding quietly past her- well, formerly hers – room, she heard a rhythmic thudding and voices. Rolling her eyes, she picked up the pace, her bag clutched in a watery tendril behind her. A crack of thunder echoed through the ship, causing her to jump. _Thunder means lightning_.

“A little jumpy, aren’t we?”

Ghazan’s voice made her spin around in surprise, her mouth parted and chest heaving. “Dammit, Ghazan. You know exactly what it is!”

And he did. He was the first one to call her out on it ages ago. As much as Ming-Hua enjoyed prancing around in the rain, snow, steam, whatever, she tucked her tail in between her legs at thunderstorms.

“Hmph. It’s a shame that you have to be scared shitless to actually talk to me again.”

She forgot that Ghazan could have as wicked of a tongue as her.

“You know what, nevermind. Come on.”

“Where?”

Ghazan gestured over his shoulder. “I know you’re lacking a room for the night. There are four rooms on this ship. One for the captain, one for the two crewmates, and two for us. And unless you want to bear witness to that-” moans started making their ways through the wall- “then I suggest you take my offer.”

Normally, their conversation would have never even reached this point; Ming-Hua would have sought him out earlier in the night. But she had tried her damndest to avoid him after that kiss, she still was ridiculously unsure of what she wanted to do.

_After all, it’s his fault that this is so awkward! Not that there wasn’t odd tension before…_

“My pleasure.”

\---------

The room Ghazan and Zaheer had, well just Ghazan now, was identical to her former room. It was a small comfort. Over an hour had passed with small talk, catching up, and general avoidance of the elephant koi in the room.

“You know, I figured that this would happen, but still…”

“Mhmm. Just like old times.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

His comment made Ming-Hua pause. “Ghazan,” she started warningly. She had thought about them, if them was the right word for what had happened. For as long as she could remember, she had been comfortable around Ghazan. Of course, she had always appreciated the superficial things like his appearance, his voice, his bending skill. But he did connect with her in a way that she didn’t imagine anyone doing, including P’Li. And while Zaheer’s plans tended to be airtight, just look what had happened last time. Maybe, just maybe, Ghazan was right… not that she would ever admit it to him.

“Turn away,” she commanded. It was the same drill, as usual. Ghazan would untie her then avert his eyes so that she could change into a shift-like nightdress. In turn, he would too would ready himself for bed, stripping down to thin pants.

Never before had it seemed so weird.

“Do we have a bucket?”

Ghazan located one in the closet, putting it at the foot of Ming-Hua’s bed.

“Thanks,” she said as she pulled out her hair style with an icy grasp. He muttered a non-committal reply, trying to avoid her.

Soon, Ghazan was ready for sleep, laying on top of his covers, idly playing with the lava in the pot between their beds, its warmth creating the only light in the room. Ming-Hua stopped at the foot of her bed and snuck a quick glance in his direction. Maybe she wasn’t ready to declare a public relationship, but dammit, she wanted him and wanted to have him be just as surprised as she originally was.

 _Two can play_ that _game._

Ghazan, as Ming-Hua suspected, was unaware. He stared lazily at the ceiling, wishing that maybe he could glimpse the starry sky. Sensing her advantage, she pounced.

Ghazan quickly sat up and was met face-to-face by Ming-Hua. She was straddling his lap, hovering over him. He gulped. Knowing that she had won this round, she attacked his mouth with her own. It was just as she had remembered. He smelt delightfully woody and tasted just as good. His shock wore off after a couple seconds, when he finally regained some sense and realized that his lips were already moving against hers, that his hands were already at her hips, clutching them hard.

Reluctantly, he pulled back. “Are you sure? Ming-Hua, I-“

“Shut up and kiss me.”

And so he did, enjoying the scrape of icy nails on his back. His hand wound into her hair, yanking her head back sharply and causing her to let out a gasp. He smirked into her mouth and started to pepper her neck with kisses.

He had walked in on her and a random man once, many years ago. Back then, he had only a small squeeze of jealousy which was easily brushed off as she was getting laid and he wasn’t. But that chance encounter did show Ghazan that Ming-Hua wasn’t about being plain and romantic; she, as some would say, liked it a little rough. Of course, it was a miracle that he remembered it since she had thrashed him later that day.

But that was in the past, and here they were now, and dare he say that she was his?

Ming-Hua had shifted closer to him throughout the exchange, close enough that her petite body was pressed flush against his. Ghazan let his hand unthread from its position in her hair to grip her hips again… Apparently he had a thing for her hips, perhaps because she was so physically smaller than him but was the strongest person he knew. _Yeah, sure, that sounded philosophical enough._

Ming-Hua let out another gasp as Ghazan forced her onto him, feeling his excitement. She had to stop doing that, she sounded like one of those girls in a cheesy love story. Nevertheless, she rocked her hips in response. His hands were wandering again, fingers dancing up her stomach, over her cloth-clad breasts, and finally coming up to grasp the back of her head to pull her in for another kiss. Pleasant tingles ran through her body from his touch. His strength and power were turning her on, causing her to once again deepen their kiss.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Hey, can you make another lava pot?”

Ghazan cursed under his breath. Ming-Hua slowly leant off of him, her slip showing a tantalizing amount of skin, _skin he had been so close to touching!_ He forced himself to calm down, both upstairs and downstairs, before responding.

“Yeah, hold on. Couldn’t you have just cuddled? P’Li’s a firebender, shouldn’t she have natural heat or something?”

Ming-Hua smirked at him, moving to her bed when he opened the door for Zaheer.

After he had finished his task and returned to the room, he found Ming-Hua in his bed once again. Dirty thoughts in mind, he went over to her, leaning in, only to be met with a cool water tendril.

“Night time, Ghazan.”

“You wouldn’t have said that five minutes ago.”

“You wouldn’t have had five minutes ago if I hadn’t come over.”

“Ming-Hua, you can’t just leave a guy hanging!”

“There will be other nights if you’re lucky.”

“Sourpuss.”

Despite their banter, Ming-Hua let Ghazan wrap his arms around her as she placed her water arms into the bucket beside the bed, ready to go to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don’t own anything.
> 
> I’ve introduced some of the other characters’ POVs here, just playing around some and trying to connect the dots to as many Red Lotus events as I can. 
> 
> And oh my gosh you guys, October 3rd!

\--------------

The morning found Ghazan waking up with Ming-Hua still in his arms. He admired how well she fit into him, nestled just like the dolls his sister used to play with. He gently disentangled his arms from around her, causing her to turn over in her sleep to seek out his warmth. As he reclined, tattooed arms crossed behind his head, he decided that he truly wouldn’t mind waking up to this every morning.

Ming-Hua eventually started to stir, beginning to slightly panic as she felt a wall in her bed. Her eyes jolted open, only to relax when she realized that it was Ghazan. Memories of last night flooded into her head, and she couldn’t decide whether to be proud of herself or not. _Maybe a relationship isn’t such a bad idea… After all, I could have done worse._

When she peered through her lashes at Ghazan, who was resting against the headboard, his abs on full display, she amended her thoughts. _I don’t think that’s there’s anyone better._

Ming-Hua would never tell Ghazan these things, not verbally, but she knew that he picked up how her actions spoke when her words could not. She wondered if he knew how insecure she could be, a waif of a woman with no arms, a gaunt face, and a now scratchy voice. She knew that her face wasn’t the conventional pretty – she had no pouty lips and plump cheeks, but she did know that her eyes weren’t half bad. With a yawn, arching her back to force it to pop, she sat up. Ghazan, bless his easygoing attitude, just followed her movements with his eyes. It was Ghazan after all, maybe, just this once, she could try to vocalize some feelings.

“Thank you.”

“What?”

“For this, us, whatever it is.”

For as many times as Ghazan had delivered witty banter with her, he fell oddly silent. Ming-Hua didn’t like the twinkle in his eye, like he knew something that she didn’t.

“You are welcome, Ming-Hua. In fact, you are more than welcome. Excuse my sentiments, I know you aren’t a huge emotions fan, but you do allow me a great honor.”

Ming-Hua reverted back to her inability to talk, only managing a nod at his admittance. She cracked a half-smile; of course Ghazan would know how to reassure her every fear with one sentence. It was an odd feeling, the flutter in her stomach.

“Do you want to tell P’Li or Zaheer?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fair enough. Ming-Hua, I’ve waited over fifteen years for us to get to this point, I think I can wait a few more days.”

Deciding that she had reached her emotional talk limit for the day, she leant up into him for a kiss. Just as he began to return it, she pulled away. Ghazan frowned, only to be hit in the face with a splash of water. “Hey!” He sputtered.

Ming-Hua was already strolling across the room, icy hooks removing her shift, ready to change into her daily garb.

_I suppose I could be a romantic man and admire the view… Or I could not._

With a flick of his fingers, he lifted a small chunk of Earth from under Ming-Hua’s feet, causing her to stumble. She glared over her shoulder.

They were starting a relationship, but apparently nothing else would change.

\---------------------

Zaheer and P’Li met them on the deck. A small blip was in the distance, specks of light visible.

“I’ve never really explored Republic City,” P’Li said wistfully.

“You aren’t missing much,” Ghazan bitterly replied. Born to an earthbender and a non-bender from the Fire Nation, Ghazan had grown up in the stereotypical mixed heritage house seen in Republic City until he was four. At that point in his life, his parents disappeared. That was what his sister had told him as they struggled to continue their lives. Eventually, he found out that a pregnancy-his sister- had forced his mother into marrying their father. She had had another man in her life, so when she decided that Ghazan and his sister no longer needed her, she had left. His father had killed himself shortly thereafter, leaving them on their own. Ghazan and his sister had made it until he was sixteen. A disease had spread rampant through the lower echelons of Republic City, claiming his sister and close friends. The rulers and upper class tried to ignore it, hoping that the plague would just dissipate on its own. It did eventually, but it had taken a vast number of the lower class with it. Lost and wondering with no cause but hate, he had gone into underground bending fights. The money from that had delivered his tattoos – one for every dear person lost. Zaheer had found him shortly after, offering an outlet for his hatred.

Needless to say, he wasn’t particularly thrilled about going back to Republic City.

P’Li and Zaheer moved to the edge of the deck, leaning slightly on each other. Ghazan took this opportunity to slip his arm around Ming-Hua’s waist. Maybe he could get her to warm up to this whole public display of affection idea. She responded rather positively, resting her head on his shoulder.

Zaheer nudged P’Li, nodding in Ming-Hua and Ghazan’s direction. She saw his arm and smiled.

“It’s about time, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Zaheer agreed. “It’s more than overdue.”

Ming-Hua didn’t exactly know what to make of Ghazan. Despite her exterior calmness, she was flustered on the inside. He was forward where she was shy, he was relaxed where she was wound tight, he was solid where she was flighty. Luckily for him, she figured that her fickle emotions were safe in the hands of her fellow Red Lotus. Thus, she let his arm rest where he had laid it.

\--------------------------

Their entrance into Republic City was as stealthy and uneventful as they had planned. True to their captain’s word, parts of the city were overrun with giant vines, spirits, and other obstacles. They had found an abandoned building surrounded by spirits in an old derelict block.

“It’s a tree house. Zaheer, was this intentional?” P’Li asked with a smirk on her face.

“Perhaps.” His answering quirk of the mouth was confirmation enough.

“Home sweet home, then,” Ming-Hua rasped. With a slingshot-like motion of her arms, she flung their small bag of belongings into the apartment. Zaheer had already flown up in a burst of air, P’Li clutching his neck as she laughed in delight. Ghazan mockingly sighed at them and then extended his hand for Ming-Hua to take.

“Shall we?” And without waiting for a response, he raised a rock pillar under their feet, creating an elevator of sorts while forcing Ming-Hua to lean onto him to maintain her balance.

“You’re so sneaky, let me tell you,” she drily remarked.

“Ah, but you know you love it.”

“Only in your dreams.”

“So you think that you’re in my dreams? That’s a bit presumptuous, Ming-Hua.”

_Damn his cocky grin._

She could only roll her eyes in response.

\-----------------

P’Li and Zaheer had decided to cuddle on the couch, and Ming-Hua knew from P’Li’s increasingly clingy touches that she was desperate for Zaheer. It was both a fortunate and unfortunate quirk Ming-Hua had picked up on over the years. And, like many previous times, she skillfully rewarded them privacy by asking Ghazan to come with her to search for dinner.

As they walked down the main street in Republic City, she couldn’t help but to feel awkward and frumpy. The coat she wore had to be long enough to cover what would have been her hands, so therefore it was extra baggy on the bottom. She tried to cinch it in at her waist with some cloth, desperate to maintain some sort of femininity under all of her bulkiness. Ghazan had to cover his tattoos just as she had to cover her lack of arms. For as wanted as they were as criminals, the only descriptions that most people knew were “Zaheer, a female combustion bender, a tattooed lavabender, and a female, armless waterbender.” Ghazan and Ming-Hua weren’t the “leader” – their faces didn’t matter, so they strolled down the lane with relative ease. On top of that, the majority of people weren’t old enough or informed enough to care about something that had happened over a decade ago.

Of course, the grasp of Ghazan’s arm around her waist would have confused even the suspicious; it was well known that P’Li and Zaheer were a couple going into their twentieth-something year, but Ming-Hua and Ghazan weren’t supposed to be romantically involved. Of course, that hadn’t stopped anyone from referring to them as a unit all of the time. It was Ming-Hua and Ghazan, Ghazan and Ming-Hua.

They had strolled up to a cart that smelt of spices. Handing the vendor some money, they both selected a few sticks of meat and a bowl of rice, asking for some extras in a bag to give to P’Li and Zaheer.

Some blocks later, hunger sated, they found a bar. Ming-Hua wasted no time in dragging Ghazan into the joint.

“It’s been how long, Ghazan?”

“What feels like thirty years. I’m craving a good brew.”

Soon they were equipped with drinks, eagerly downing them.

“You know, doesn’t that woman look familiar?”

Ming-Hua peered over Ghazan’s shoulder for closer inspection.

“It’s Katara’s kid. The waterbender. Ghazan, we should leave!”

He gripped her waist and pulled her close around the circular booth. “No, she’s not even close to being a threat to you, let alone both of us. Just enjoy the night, Ming-Hua. We don’t know where the plan is taking us or for how long.”

She stiffened in his arms as the door to the bar opened again. While Ghazan had wanted some physical contact with her, his move was also strategic; they were now in the corner of the bar, facing the door and all of the openings.

The lights illuminated the scarred face of Lin Beifong. Her eyes took a cursory survey of her surroundings, stopping to rest on the two Red Lotus members. Ghazan dropped a kiss onto the top of Ming-Hua’s hair, which was lacking its traditional half up-do. Beifong’s eyes were averted, and she started towards Kya’s table, sitting down heavily.

Ming-Hua stomped on his foot.

“What the spirits was that?” She hissed.

“Calm down, _dear_. It’s what got us out of a potential problem. Sir,” he called to the bartender, “a few more rounds, please.”

\----------------

Lin Beifong knew something was off about the couple in the corner. Her instincts didn’t lie.

“Kya, how are you?”

“Fine, Lin. Why did you call me here instead of visiting the island?”

“To be honest, I figured that the island needs as little attention as possible, especially with the news I’m about to deliver.”

Kya’s mouth tightened. “What is it?”

“The Red Lotus has escaped.”

Kya ungracefully spit out her drink, spraying alcohol onto Lin.

“Zaheer busted out because he’s now an airbender-” Kya started choking on what remained of her drink- “and he aided in Ghazan’s escape who then rescued Ming-Hua-” coughs were emitting from Kya at this point- “and together they defeated Tonraq, Zuko, and the twins while freeing P’Li.”

Kya regained some sort of control. Sputtering, she came to her conclusion. “They’ll be after Korra then.”

Lin hummed her agreement. “And, control yourself Kya… I think water and lava might be in the corner.”

“What? No way. Lin, you’re just being paranoid. They couldn’t have made it from the Northern Water Tribe to Republic City so quickly!” She watched as the female kissed the underside of the man’s jaw. “And those two are being so affectionate… Lin, it just doesn’t fit!”

Lin gave a discrete stomp of her foot, sending out seismic waves. “I feel like I recognize Ming-Hua from the interrogations.” But the seed of doubt had already been cast, and Lin dropped it – she had bigger things to do, like getting to Ba Sing Se to protect Korra. “I just wanted you to be aware. Tell the Air Acolytes, the White Lotus, Pema, whoever. Just be ready – it’s inevitable.”

Both women watched as the supposed Red Lotus couple left the establishment, the woman staggering slightly and being steadied by the man.

\-----------

Ghazan knew it was risky, that he was tipsy and Ming-Hua was even farther gone, but he had lived his whole adult life on risks.

“Wanna throw them off, little ice queen?” He slurred only slightly, stooping down so he could whisper into Ming-Hua’s ear.

“Mhmm. Of course, let’s play.” Ming-Hua’s inhibitions rapidly dropped when she consumed alcohol, and her post-prison size had transformed her into a bit of a lightweight.

With a grin, Ghazan laced his hand into her loose hair and tugged, eliciting a gasp that he muffled with his mouth. Ming-Hua actually grinned into the kiss, drunk but enjoying the moment. She let him lead her out the door and back to the apartment.

\------------

Kya and Lin watched as the couple locked into a kiss before walking out of the door into the cold night. Lin had sought something else to look at, squeamish as always at the sight of public affection. But Kya looked on, because when the man had gripped the woman’s hair, she had thought, “ _Doesn’t that hurt?”_ but then she was shocked. His sleeve had slid down, bars of grey displayed.

And the woman hadn’t opened the door or waved over anyone or done anything that involved arms… _Am I just being paranoid now? People have tattoos, that’s a trend nowdays?_ Kya cursed, unable to make up her mind. _Am I just looking for something now, maybe I’m imagining stuff?_

With a shake of her head, she threw back what was left of her drink, nodded at Lin, and headed back to the island for a much needed rest. She had a lot to do tomorrow.

_Ming-Hua and Ghazan, that’s just a laughable thought… Everyone knows that they play the third wheels._

\-------------

They had made it back to the apartment with relative ease, avoiding the spirits but tripping clumsily over the vines. Ghazan had had to catch Ming-Hua several times.

Ghazan popped his head into the room P’Li and Zaheer had claimed, tossing the bag of food onto what he guessed was the bed.

He then went back into the other room, what looked like it was once a living room. He punched up a small lava pit for warmth, stripping to just his pants, as was customary for him. Ming-Hua had already removed the large disguise coat, and as he turned around, she was on him, bowling him over into the couch and straddling his waist. He allowed himself to enjoy the make-out session for a few moments before gently pushing her away.

“Ming-Hua, you’re drunk, we can’t…”

She frowned, beginning to formulate a response before Ghazan forced her to lay down on the couch with him. She fell asleep in moments, but Ghazan laid awake for a while longer, sobering up and musing on the day’s events, absentmindedly stroking Ming-Hua’s hair.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

The morning proved rough for Ming-Hua. She was grumpy, had a splitting headache, and worst of all, had bumped into the lava bucket. Needless to say, anything and everyone was on her bad side.

“Ghazan, how many times have I told you-”

“-watch the lava bucket, yes, _I know, Ming-Hua_!”

“Trouble in paradise?” P’Li strolled into the room, stepping over to Ming-Hua and deftly pulling her hair into its half up style. “Thanks for the food, by the way, I’m glad you remember that I love spicy meats.”

Ming-Hua grunted in response, willing water on to her ankle to heal the burn. Now her pounding headache… _I knew I shouldn’t have drank that much._

“Where’s Zaheer?” Ghazan asked.

“He went off to Air Temple Island to see if the Avatar is there. Shaved his head and everything. We’re just going to camp out here until he comes back. I have Pai Sho!”

\---------

Several tens of games later, P’Li went to lay for a nap. She was pretty effectively contained to the apartment – it was impossible to inconspicuously hide her tattoo. Ming-Hua and Ghazan decided to go out into the city again, the incident with Beifong and Kya forgotten.

“I want to show you something.”

Ming-Hua started walking down an alley, twisting and turning through streets like a professional. Ghazan often forgot that she too had history in Republic City, though he only knew the snippets that she had chosen to divulge over the years. Soon they were standing on the corner of a main intersection. Satomobiles zoomed past them, heedless of pedestrians or traffic signals. A heavily trafficked pub sat caddy corner to them.

“I… This is it.”

And Ghazan knew. Ming-Hua was not a woman of many words, but this was… this was her life in one location. Where she had become an orphan, where her world had come crashing down with the loss of her arms, where her overwhelming hatred of authority came from, where the cynical, sarcastic attitude emerged. This was quite possible the most private thing she could reveal to him, and that fact washed over him like a tidal wave, knocking him off of his feet.

Ming-Hua, for her part, stood silently. No tears came, she was collected. But she was anxious – would Ghazan understand how much courage this had taken her, that this was a sign that she was very much ready to commit to him? _Of course he will, he knows you. He chose you._

The moment of tension, the weighted burden on their shoulders, was lifted when Ghazan hugged her. And that’s all that it was, a gentle embrace. He pulled her over to sit on a bench with him, and Ming-Hua laid her head onto his broad shoulder. A phantom tingle ran through where her arms once were, and what might have been the beginning of a tear formed in her eye. She blinked it away, willing herself to bury the emotions. Ghazan tilted her chin up to look at him, his calloused thumb wiping away a stray tear. _Damn, thought I controlled them._

“Thank you, Ming-Hua, thank you so much.”

\--------------

Ghazan thought that he should’ve repaid the favor, even though Ming-Hua knew his story well. They had stopped for a late lunch, snacking on the most interesting flatbreads. By the end of the afternoon, Ghazan had lead them to an apartment complex. People bustled in and out of the building, some waving happily to neighbors, others unloading groceries from a Satomobile.

“This was where we lived. Everything really happened here. As you can see, it’s a rather energetic place. Not much kills that vibe. It only took a couple months after my father’s death for it to be like this again, new tenants in my apartment.”

Ming-Hua’s eyes followed random people as they went about their business. A couple walked in, an infant cradled in the woman’s arms. It was amazing how their places of tragedy, of development, were just as easily normal again.

“Sometimes I wonder if I could have lived this life.” Ghazan had seen the couple, too. “But then I think that I knew my calling was greater than a menial life in Republic City. The underground fighting took me everywhere, places like Ba Sing Se. And,” he playfully nudged Ming-Hua, “I never would have met you. Probably would’ve saved myself a lot of bruises and unexpected ice baths.”

Ming-Hua’s mouth twitched upwards. “We might have met at some point, you know.”

“It’s a big city, and that’s an astronomical maybe.”

“Hm. Fair enough. Come on, I’ve had enough of dramatic retellings of our pasts to last a lifetime. I’m starved.”

“Always so eloquent, Ming-Hua.”

“I really want dumplings.”

\------------

The day had slowly wasted away until the sun cut the horizon, sending pink clouds their way. Neither Ming-Hua or Ghazan had initiated much contact all day – Ming-Hua was entirely too conscious about a public relationship and was sober enough to follow through on her concerns, and Ghazan knew not to pressure her.

The two criminals had secretly delighted in walking so freely among the public, even visiting the council building in a tour group. On their way back to the apartment, sirens began to blare around them, police rushing past them. They had caught wind of one of the radio reports while walking by a restaurant.

“The notorious criminal Zaheer has been spotted on Air Temple Island and is now on the run. Republic City police cannot confirm his whereabouts but are strongly certain that he remains at large in the city. The police have also cautioned against his cohorts. They are as follows: a female combustion bender named P’Li, a tattooed lavabender name Ghazan, and an armless female waterbender named Ming-Hua. Posters have been put up – anyone who has seen these individuals or suspicious activities is encouraged to report to the police and not to engage the quartet.”

Just as the report finished, workers were plastering their faces onto nearby bulletins. Ming-Hua almost laughed in spite. They had looked so good thirteen years ago, not hardened by prison, not with a newly shaved head, not with an emaciated figure.

“Time to go.” Ghazan tugged at her hand.

They had to utilize the back roads and alleys leading to the apartment, stealth and shadow on their side. P’Li was pacing angrily across the span of the living room, rounding on them when they climbed through the window. “He’s got the entire police force after him!”

“He’ll be fine, P’Li. Probably already has an entire back-up plan ready, besides taking out Raiko.” Ghazan spoke as the voice of reason. “Listen, go to sleep. We’ll take watch duties.”

“No,” P’Li interjected. “I had a nap earlier, I’ll go first.”

Ghazan went over to sit on the couch, hoping for Ming-Hua to join him, but she had crawled up into one of the tree branches running through the room. Curled up in a ball, she was already falling asleep, her breathing slowing down. Within minutes, she was asleep. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. If only it were that easy for him to fall asleep.

“What’s going on between you two?” P’Li’s whisper cut through the silence of the room.

“I don’t really know what to call it. It’s wherever she want to go with it.”

“You best be sure of it, Ghazan. I’ve picked up the pieces twice with her, and spirits help you if you hurt her or the team.”

“P’Li, you’ve got to be kidding. You know how much this means to me, you were the one who told me years ago to make a move!”

P’Li shrugged. “It’s the obligatory friend warning. I am happy that you two are happy, but no one knows what’s in store for us.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Ghazan stated, laying down.

\------------------

Ghazan blinked wearily, awoken by a shrug on his shoulder. P’Li towered over his sleeping form, a yawn breaking her stern stature. “It’s your turn. I’d say to take three hours and let Ming-Hua do the last hour or so.”

Mouth sticky and dehydrated, he nodded, glancing around the room for a drink of water. P’Li had left for the other section of the apartment, leaving him with Ming-Hua curled up in her tree corner. She was so petite and beautiful and he just wanted to _consume_ her. Taking a deep breath, trying to control his random rush of thoughts, he sat near the windows, training his eyes for his session as a lookout.

The hours passed slowly, agonizingly so. Ghazan saw only two people, a young couple that had shared an awkward makeout on a nearby bench before moving on. He didn’t even see many spirits about. After estimating his three hours, he went to wake Ming-Hua. His hand hovered over her shoulder, paused to look at her. Ghazan knew that she wasn’t the biggest fan of her looks, but he didn’t care. He trailed a finger down the sharp bone of her cheek, along her thin jaw, and over her collarbone. He was tempted to explore more but willed himself not to. Ming-Hua’s eyes had started to flutter open.

“Wake up sleepyhead.”

With a grumble, she batted his hand away, bending some water into her mouth, and lifting herself out of her tree perch. Ghazan interrupted her descent, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

“Is this supposed to wake me up?”

“No, it’s so I can do what I’ve been thinking about for the past three hours of my watch.”

“Selfish, Ghazan.” She smirked down at him. It was unusual, seeing him from this angle. She was normally almost a foot shorter than him, yet now, as he held her up, she could see down the sculpted nose, so close that she could see the individual hairs of his moustache.

Their lips met halfway, her long hair brushing against his face while his facial hair tickled hers. It was a short, somewhat chaste kiss, at least for Ghazan’s standards. He set Ming-Hua down.

She turned and started to walk away, and maybe, just maybe, it was the lack of restful sleep or maybe it was his deathwish, but Ghazan playfully swatted at Ming-Hua’s rear end. Expecting a full barrage of water, he decided that he would grin and bear it.

_Because dammit, go you, Ghazan, go you._

She surprised them both by simply turning her head, arching an eyebrow, and walking over to where Ghazan had been seated at the windows.

_I should definitely smack him for that…_

“You’re so needy, I’m flattered.”

_Ming-Hua, you’re being a lovesick polar bear pup, stop it!_

Trying to rearrange what he knew was his shocked face, Ghazan took a deep breath, threw a smirk in Ming-Hua’s direction, and went over to the couch.

After a few minutes of turning over in a feeble attempt to get sleep, Ghazan gave up, walking back over to where Ming-Hua sat peering out of the windows. He crouched down behind her, sitting down so that his legs extended alongside her bent ones, wrapping his arms around her middle and leaning his chin onto her shoulder. He felt her stiffen. _Hopefully we can break that soon…_

Ming-Hua had heard him padding across the floor behind her – stealth and subtlety were never Ghazan’s strong points. When he embraced her, she knew that she should relax, she really did feel safe with him, but old habits die hard.

Eventually, her shoulders fell down, and she leant back into Ghazan’s broad chest.

“Hm… Was that so hard?” He teased.

“Shut it.”

His fingers danced across her stomach, lazily tracing out designs.

“Wonder what we’re going to do when Zaheer gets back.”

“He’ll have something worked out, he always does.”

“Ghazan, I don’t… I don’t want to fail again.”

“We won’t. I’m never going to be locked up again, I could never stand it… Well, maybe I could if I was locked up with you.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Ming-Hua rolled her eyes. It was so like Ghazan to use humor to defuse a serious situation, but of course, that was one of the reasons as to why she found herself so attracted to him. Secretly, she agreed with Ghazan. She certainly wouldn’t mind prison if she was with him, but that would never be the case.

He pressed a line of closed mouth kisses along her jawline, and if she was anyone besides herself, she would’ve sighed in happiness. As it was, she leant back into him, looking upwards to give him more access. She used her water to trail lightly up his legs, their fluidity as a liquid allowing her to tease up his thighs. She felt him shiver in anticipation. It was an amazing turn on, knowing that he worshipped her that much.

“You know,” she whispered, “this isn’t exactly a productive watch.”

“Who cares?”

She was about to turn around and face him when a whoosh of air sounded. They both stopped dead in their tracks, careening around to look at the windows. Zaheer zoomed around the building, slowing his momentum until he passed through the window. He rolled out of his landing, surprisingly ungraceful. P’Li came bounding out of the bedroom, startled by the noise. She hugged Zaheer tightly, causing Ghazan and Ming-Hua to avert their eyes. A sharp crack made them both turn back to the couple.

P’Li had slapped Zaheer. Hard.

Ming-Hua and Ghazan shared a look, barely managing to stifle their laughter – P’Li always won in arguments.

With a sigh, Zaheer sat down, closing his eyes to try and meditate, blocking out his frustration. Ming-Hua had curled back into the tree in the corner, Ghazan on the couch, and P’Li stood, ready to pounce if Zaheer said a wrong word.

“Seems like you made quite a stir on Air Temple Island,” P’Li spat. “The cops are swarming the city looking for us.”

Ghazan spoke, trying to spare Zaheer from more of P’Li’s anger. “You still wanna try to take out the president?”

“No,” Zaheer said. It was short and clipped; he was still fuming from P’Li’s slap, even if she had meant well. “He’ll have to wait. We leave today.”


End file.
